


You Are De Winner Afterall

by steveholmes



Category: dflkg
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveholmes/pseuds/steveholmes





	You Are De Winner Afterall

"Come to the closet. Sharp left. Can't miss it." 

Maxime Bernier read off his phone; following the intructions of texts very closely. God, why'd he give the Billionaire his phone number? Couldn't have he called? That Kevin O'Leary complicated the french man.

 

Bernier give a small knock on the door; it opens half way;   
"Uh, Mr. Oh Leary?" Croaked Brenier to the seeming emptiness, only to have his hand clasped by someone elses hand and pulled into the closet alongside him.

"Ow," Bernier groaned, "y' could 'ave just asked--"

"--Look, this is just as hard for me as it is to you." The other man grimaced, barely recognizable under the dreary dimness of one lightbulb. But the voice was unmistakably Kevin O'leary-- crisp, assertive and sly.

 

"Welcome to de Politics, Mr. O' Leary" Bernier began again, his goofy smile all-the-more-smug.

"Fuck you, Maxime. Fuck you. I wouldn't have gotten the Quebec vote if it wasn't for you stealing my ideas." Kevin tutted, although the fact Kevin's words were angry, his voice kept calmly the opposite.

Maxime ignored the fact that this was all completely wrong, and spoke again: "Kevin, 'am sorry Kevin. S-shall I, uh, make eet up to you?" Maxime stammered, managing to cup Kevin's face through the dark.

"Yeah, come 'ere you big lug."  
Kevin pulled Maxime down by the lapels, aligning himself to his height as he smothered his broad face in kisses. "How the french do it-- or rather, how you won the populaur quebec vote by kissing up the locals"

Maxime laughed slightly-- pinching Kevin's cheek,"No, this is how us Quebecois do it." -- with that, Bernier tugged on Kevin's tie, loosening it until he freed Kevin's shirt collar, -- Bernier's mouth going there to kiss his neck tenderly, descending down which each tug of cloth.

Kevin was getting worked up, but sure wasn't showing it.   
"Maxime." He said sternly, but Bernier's hand then found his pants-- palming him down there as he unzipped. "Godamnit Maxime, can you fucking speak English? Arrêtez. arrêter maintenant! Godamn you, stop it I said!"

But Bernier wasn't listening. nor were Kevin's frictioning hips. "M-maxime..."

"Oui? Mr. Prime Minister-to-be-not?" Maxime spoke innocently, his warm hands halting.

"If your gonna do that, wait until my pants are off. I love clothes sex much as the next guy but I ain't gonna make mess"

"Of course, Mr. Oh-Leary. You are a winner, afterall.   
\------

5 Minutes later, Maxime Bernier buckled his pants up, turning to ask O'Leary if he was leaving. "Are we--"

 

Kevin then whispered hotly--; "I have to look good or my little friends from Shark Tank won't hear the end of it. Just go."

And with that, Maxime left for the stage. It was time to put an end to the rivalry once and for all. And Kevin knew it.


End file.
